Trust In the Truth
by Sassafrass86
Summary: A stand-alone story. AU. Sydney/Vaughn fluff. Sydney, Jack, and Vaughn go on a mission in France. During the mission, Irina Derevko appears...


Trust In the Truth 

**Author's Note: I'd just like to tell everyone that this is a piece that I wrote for an English assignment, which is why there's all this back story and stuff. It's definitely AU, and I just wanted to get feedback from other people. I hope you like it!**

"Mom?" she asked meekly. 

"Oh, Sydney…you have no idea how long I've waited for this." 

This wasn't how she had imagined it would happen. She'd always had a gut feeling that her mother was alive, ever since she'd joined SD-6, but she never would have thought… 

Sydney Bristow had not led a very easy life. When she was eight years old, her mother, Laura Bristow, had been killed in a car accident. At least, that's what Sydney had been told. Her father, Jack, had never been around. However, Sydney had always been a strong young woman. She had learned to take care of herself, and by the time she reached college, she was the top student in all of her classes. But on December 8, 1994, everything changed. That was the day she was recruited by SD-6. 

_SD-6, Sydney thought bitterly, cursing the thought. SD-6 was an enemy of the United States, and they had tricked her, while she was a freshman in college, to join their agency. They had been so convincing…they had come to her, claiming to be a "black-ops" branch of the CIA, and she had been foolish enough to fall right into their trap. SD-6's cover was Credit Dauphine, a local bank in Los Angeles. They were, fittingly, on sub-level 6 of the bank. The agents of the agency posed as employees of Credit Dauphine. Unfortunately, they didn't know what SD-6 really was. Every single agent in SD-6 thought they were really working for the CIA. That is, except for Sydney and her father, Jack. Sydney had started out as a secretary of sorts: running errands, making copies…the whole nine yards. Within six months, Agent David Wilson, the man who had recruited her, informed her that she was to begin her training. She had spent almost a year in the gym, learning different styles of martial arts, and on the shooting range before she met SD-6 Director Arvin Sloane. He was the one man who represented all things evil. Sydney, in fact, often privately referred to him as 'the Devil.' Awhile later, her father had approached her. She had been a bit suspicious about his sudden appearance, but when he told her what SD-6 was really about…she had no choice but to join forces with him. She discovered that Jack was a double agent for the CIA, so she went to the Central Intelligence Agency as well. Now, she was double operative. That was her life. _

"Put the gun down, Laura," her father said, his hands still high in the air. 

"Oh, Jack please…you are hardly in any position to be giving _me orders. After all, I'm not Laura Bristow anymore. I never was, and you know that. I am Irina Derevko, and you, my dear, are about to become my late ex-husband." _

"Mom please…" Sydney whispered, her voice cracking. 

She couldn't believe this was all happening so quickly. It had only been the night before when… 

It was three in the morning on Thursday, August 15, 2002. Michael Vaughn sat on a large crate in an old, deserted warehouse on the very end of Temple Street in Los Angeles. This was where Vaughn usually informed Sydney about her counter-missions. Vaughn was Sydney's CIA handler, or contact. He was the one who gave her updates on counter-missions against SD-6. He also happened to be the shoulder Sydney could cry on, which went against all the rules of appropriate behavior between a handler and his agent. It didn't matter to him, though. He _wanted to be there for Sydney. He cared about her very much. He cared about her __too much, in the eyes of his fellow agents. _

"Hey," he heard Sydney say. He was surprised he hadn't noticed the clicking of her heels. 

"Hi," he replied, standing up and stretching his legs. 

"What's my counter-mission?" she asked. 

"Well, Sloane wants you and your father to get the codes to Rambaldi's music box, right?" 

"Right," Sydney confirmed. 

Milo Rambaldi was a 15th century Italian artist and inventor. All agencies, SD-6 and the KGB in particular, have been tracking down Rambaldi's creations, like the music box, for their own usage. Nobody really knew what the purpose of the music box was. In fact, nobody knew what the purpose of _any_ Rambaldi inventions was. All they knew was it was valuable, and they wanted it before anyone else could get their hands on it. 

"Well, when you get to France, you're going to meet with SD-6's guy, Jean-Paul Basque. I'm going to be at his nightclub before you arrive, but before you two go in, I want you to put these on." Vaughn handed her a small box. 

Sydney took the box from him and opened it. She looked up at him. "Earrings?" 

"They're specially designed as comm. links. I'll be able to be in contact with you at all times." 

Sydney nodded. "Okay, great." 

"After you make the exchange with Basque, you're going to tell me the numbers. Then, you're going to leave the club. Walk eight blocks left, and you'll see an alley. Now, I'm going to be waiting there for both of you, and I'll give you the fake codes to give to Sloane." 

"Okay, I got it. Anything else?" 

"Nope, that's it. I'll see you in France." 

"Bonjour, Madame et Monsieur," the bouncer said to Sydney and Jack, holding open the door to the French nightclub, La Belle Rouge. 

Sydney nodded to the man. "Merci," she said, walking through, linking arms with her father. She ignored the stares of the men around her. She thought nothing of them. After all, she _was wearing an extremely short, low-cut, black cocktail dress with a shoulder-length platinum blonde wig and carrying a rather large, silver briefcase. Not to mention the fact that her father was wearing an incredibly odd-fashioned, flashy black and silver suit. _

As she continued on, Sydney scanned the room for any sign of their target. 

"Do you see him?" Vaughn asked over the communication link. 

Sydney glanced around. "Not yet…no, wait, there he is." 

Sydney and Jack inconspicuously strolled toward the area where Jean-Paul Basque was seated. He looked up at them, smiled, and gestured toward the seat next him. 

"Bonjour, uh…" he trailed. 

Sydney thought back to the alias Sloane had come up with for her. 

"You're alias will be Isabelle Nableu. You're the daughter of the French businessman, David Nableu, which will be you, Jack" Sloane had said just the day before. 

"Je m'appelle Isabelle Nableu, et voici mon pere, David Nableu," Sydney informed Basque. 

"Ah, Mademoiselle et Monsieur Nableu," Basque continued. He switched to English. "Welcome to my club." 

"Let's get on with this, shall we?" Sydney suggested, using a thick French accent. 

"Oh, absolutely," Basque agreed. He leaned down to pick up something up. Sydney furrowed her brow and exchanged quick glance with Jack when Basque placed a violin case on the table. 

"What, are you going to play us a song?" she asked sarcastically. 

Basque chuckled. "You're a very amusing young woman, Miss Nableu. I like that." 

Jack glared at him angrily. Basque caught his gaze and laughed nervously. 

"I apologize, Monsieur, I apologize. Now, in this violin case, you will find the codes to Rambaldi's music box." 

Sydney reached for the case. 

"Tsk, tsk, Miss Nableu. I want the money first." 

Sydney squinted at the man before picking up the briefcase they had brought with them. Basque laid it on the table and opened it. 

"Hmm…" Basque murmured, admiring the cash. "Is it all there?" 

"Would you like to count it yourself?" Sydney asked coldly. 

"No, no, that's quite alright," Basque replied. "It's been nice doing business with you. Have a nice evening." He stood up. 

"Hold on, now," Sydney said, standing up as well. 

"Yes?" 

"I want to make sure that this is really what I came here for. And you're not going anywhere until I'm positive that is." 

"Mademoiselle, I am a man of my word. I am not a deceiver." 

"Yeah, well we'll see about that," she said, unlocking the case. In the case was a matrix of numbers in five rows and three columns. However, there was also another set of numbers. This set was counting down from two minutes. It was a bomb. 

Sydney widened her eyes and looked at her father, who looked back at her with an equally shocked expression. She sharply looked up at Basque. Her eyes bulged when she realized he had disappeared. She began to panic. 

"Dad, where did he go?" 

"I don't know. Listen, Sydney, I'll stay here and diffuse the bomb. You go look for Basque--" 

"No, Dad, you go look for him." 

"Sydney, I--" 

"Dad, please! Just go, I can handle this." 

Jack looked at her hesitantly. 

"Go!" Sydney urged. 

He grunted and ran off in pursuit of Basque. She sat back down at the table. 

"Vaughn," she said, "Vaughn, we have a problem!"  
"What is it, Sydney?" 

"Well, I have the case and the codes, but…we have two minutes before it explodes. Well, one minute and 15 seconds." 

Vaughn began to talk very quickly. "Okay, Sydney, I need you to stay calm. Don't make anyone around you suspect that anything's wrong. Give me the codes now." 

Sydney took in a deep breath. "Okay, the numbers are 8, 4, 9, 10, 3, 1, 2, 7, 9, 6, 4, 7, 0, 3, 5." 

"Is that it?" 

"Yeah, that's it," she said, beginning to sweat. The bomb was now on 47 seconds. 

"Sydney, don't panic. It's okay. All you need to do is take of your left earring and place it on the bomb itself." 

Sydney furrowed her brow. "_What?" _

"The earring will stop the bomb from detonating," he said calmly. 

"_What?" she asked again incredulously. _

"Sydney, _just do it!" Vaughn exclaimed. _

Sydney blinked and immediately took out her left earring. She took another deep breath and put the earring on the bomb. Now there was only 10 seconds. 10. 9. 8. 7. 6… 

"Uh, Vaughn, it's not working…" Sydney said. "Vaughn?" 

There was no answer. She was frozen in place. 

_Run! Run, you idiot, she thought to herself. _

3. 2…and it stopped. She breathed deeply and felt an immense amount of relaxation. 

_Oh, thank God, she thought. She jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She whipped her head to look at the person. _

"Dad!" she exclaimed. "Did you find him?" 

"No, he got away. Are you alright?" 

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. I deactivated the bomb," she replied, standing up. 

"Good work." 

Sydney shook her head. "I can't believe this happened." 

"Don't worry, Sydney, it's over now." 

"Follow my instructions and you won't get hurt," a female's voice said quietly. 

Jack and Sydney stiffened in alarm. 

"Look to your left. Do you see that black door over there? It's the one that says 'Employees Only'? I want you to slowly walk to that door and go in. If you even try to turn around, I will shoot you, no questions asked. Go." 

Sydney and Jack glanced at each other. They made a silent agreement and began walking toward the door. Sydney kept a look out of the corner of her eye for any sign of Vaughn's dark blond hair and deep green eyes, but she didn't see him. Thoughts began to run through her head…the worst kind. 

_Is this it? Are we going to die? Is this how it's all going to end? What happened to Vaughn? Was he caught? What will the CIA tell my friends? What's going to happen with Sloane? _

As they stepped through the door, Sydney tried to sneak a quick look over her shoulder. The nudge of their captor's gun stopped her. 

"I want you two to stand right in the middle of the room. Put your hands up." 

They did as they were told. They stood completely still, hands in the air, fingers trembling. 

"Now…you may turn around." 

Sydney sucked in a deep breath as she began to turn. What she saw was the biggest shock she had ever had in her lifetime. 

"Mom?" 

"Oh, Sydney…you have no idea how long I've waited for this." 

Sydney looked at her father. She was surprised to see that his expression was as calm as Lake Placid. 

"Put the gun down, Laura," he said firmly. 

"Oh, Jack please…you are hardly in any position to be giving _me orders. After all, I'm not Laura Bristow anymore. I never was, and you know that. I am Irina Derevko, and you, my dear, are about to become my late ex-husband." _

"Mom please…" Sydney whispered, her voice cracking. 

"Sydney, I don't want to hurt you," Irina said, completely changing her tone. Her voice was now soothing and gentle in contrast to the harshness with Jack. 

"I don't understand…how are you--" Sydney began. 

"Sydney, don't speak," Irina interrupted. "I'll explain it to you later, I promise I will. Right now, I need you to trust me. I need you to join me, Sydney." 

"What?" Jack asked, outraged. "Derevko, you have no idea what you're getting yourself into."

"I know _exactly what I'm getting myself into," Irina snapped back. She turned to Sydney again. "Sydney, dear, I need you with me. Please trust me." _

Sydney blinked. She was torn between her mother and her father. 

_How is this even possible? Mom's supposed to be dead! _

"Sydney, listen to me, this woman is not your mother…not anymore. Look what she's doing now! If she really cared for you, she wouldn't be holding you at gunpoint! She wouldn't have kept you in the dark about her survival for 22 years!" Jack pleaded. 

"And what about you Jack?" Irina demanded. "Sydney, your father knew I was alive. He's known for 15 years! If _he truly cared for you, he wouldn't have lied to you about it!" _

Sydney's eyes began to water. She looked at Irina. The similarities between the mother and daughter were so distinct that a stranger could mistake the two women for twins, if not for the elder's faint wrinkles. They shared the same chestnut hair, the same deep hazel eyes, and even the same lips…the same smile. However, the physicalities were where the similarities ended. For this woman, whether she was Laura Bristow, loyal wife and adoring mother, or Irina Derevko, cunning spy and master of manipulation, she was nothing more than a deceiver. Realizing this, Sydney stood straight and tall, lifting her chin. 

"Sydney, I ask you again…will you join me?" Irina asked. 

"No," Sydney replied coldly. She looked at her father, who gazed back at her with pride gleaming in his eyes. She looked back at her mother. "You've been alive for 22 years and you haven't once thought to let me in on it." 

"Sydney, please, it was too dangerous…" 

"No! I'm sick of excuses! I hate you." 

Irina glowered at her daughter. "How dare you." 

"What?" Sydney asked defiantly. "Are you going to ground me now?" 

Irina's eyes blazed. "You will regret that, young lady." She raised her gun and aimed it at Sydney. 

Sydney's eyes widened.

_I'm 30-years-old and I'm about to die. My **mother**__is going to shoot me. She's going to shoot her own daughter. _

Suddenly, the door burst open. "Drop your weapon and get down on the ground _now!" _

"Vaughn!" Sydney exclaimed, dazed at the sight of her handler and about 15 other CIA agents storming into the room. 

"I said _get down on the ground!" Vaughn ordered again. "Sydney, Jack, are you two alright?" _

"We're fine," Jack answered, lowering his arms and walking toward the agents. 

Vaughn kept his gun pointed at Irina. She looked up from her spot on the floor and gave him a small, nonchalant smile. "You're a clever man, Agent Vaughn," she said, loud enough for only him to hear. 

He wrinkled his forehead in confusion. 

"Unfortunately, you're not quite clever enough," she continued as she brought her right arm near her face and pressed a button on her watch. A deafening alarm sounded and a red light began to flash. In all the commotion, Irina jumped up from the floor and ran. 

"Sydney!" Vaughn shouted. She looked at him. He pointed to his left. She looked in the direction he gestured at, turned back to him, and nodded. He nodded back, and they both started in pursuit if Sydney's mother. 

_Keep going…keep going, Sydney, you can do it. She momentarily looked to her right and saw Vaughn running next to her. __We can do it. _

She saw her mother in front of her. Irina was only a few feet away, despite her head start. Sydney noticed her beginning to get slower. Irina looked behind her, and then did something that shocked both Sydney and Vaughn. She stopped. Sydney glanced at Vaughn, who gave her a questioning look. She shrugged, and eased her momentum. Suddenly, she heard a single, nearby shot ring out. She halted and stared at her mother, wide-eyed and frightened. She gasped as Irina gave her a devastating look of pain and desperation, then collapsed to the ground. Sydney willed herself to move forward and raced to her fallen mother, with Vaughn inches behind her. 

"M…mom?" she murmured. 

Irina grasped Sydney's hand. Sydney noticed a small bullet hole in her mother's right shoulder, alarmingly near her heart. 

"Sydney…Sydney…" her mother wheezed. 

"Mom…" Sydney whispered. She heard Vaughn come up behind her, but she didn't turn to look at him. 

"Sydney, I'm sorry…I am so sorry," Irina whimpered. "I never meant to hurt you…" 

"Mom, you don't--" 

"No, listen to me, Sydney! It was a mistake! I know that, and there's nothing more that I regret than what I've done to you. What I've done to you and your father…it can never be forgiven, but I'm sorry…I never should have…" Irina trailed off. Her eyes began to glaze. 

"Mom? Mom, please," Sydney begged, tears clouding her vision. 

"Sydney…I…love…you…" Irina's head fell. Sydney's jaw dropped. She felt Irina's neck for any sign of life. She put her head by Irina's mouth for any sign of breath. She felt nothing. She heard nothing. 

"Mom, no! No, please," Sydney sobbed, putting her head on Irina's chest. "No!" 

Vaughn knelt down next to Sydney and put his hand on her shoulder. Sydney pulled away from her mother and threw herself into Vaughn's arms, sobbing uncontrollably. He gently stroked her hair. He had no words for her. There was nothing left to say. 

It was one week later. Sydney, along with Vaughn, Jack, and the other CIA agents, had returned to their homes in Los Angeles. Basque had been caught a few hours after his escape when some undercover agents spotted him at the airport. 

Sydney snorted. "Are you serious?" 

Vaughn nodded. "I am completely serious." 

She rolled her eyes. "What an idiot." 

"You're telling me." 

Sydney sighed. He looked at her with concern. 

"Are you okay, Syd?" 

Sydney cocked her head. "I'm not sure. I mean…she was my mom, but she wasn't. You know?" 

Vaughn smiled. "Not really, but I think I get what you're saying." 

Sydney laughed. "Yeah, well…I just don't know how I'm supposed to feel." 

Vaughn blinked and averted his intense gaze from Sydney's. "Did I ever tell you that my dad worked for the CIA?" 

Sydney raised her eyebrows. "What? Really?" 

Vaughn gave her a short nod. "Yeah, yeah, he did. He was a field agent." 

"Wow," Sydney said, smiling. "I didn't know that. You must have been proud, huh?" 

The corners of Vaughn's mouth turned up a little. "Yeah, I was five when I found that out. I didn't really understand what the CIA was, you know? I mean, I was still a kid, but I knew it was really important. I think that was the day I officially decided that I wanted to be just like my dad." 

"Well, hey, that turned out great, then, didn't it?" Sydney grinned. 

"That depends on how you look at it." 

"What do you mean?" 

"When I was eight, my dad went on this mission. I learned later that he went to Russia, but…he didn't come back. I remember somebody came to our house a couple days after Dad was due back home, and the guy sat on our couch and talked to my mom for like, two hours. I was in my room, playing with my toys, and my mom came up. She said, 'Baby, I need you to listen to me. Daddy isn't going to be coming home.' I asked her why and she told me it was because Dad had to join the angels in heaven." 

Sydney felt tears building up in her eyes. "Oh, Vaughn…" 

He sniveled. "My mom never told me how he really died. She would always say she didn't want to talk about it. When I joined the CIA in '94, I made it my personal goal to find out what happened. I spent months on it, but I couldn't find any files on my father's death. Not a thing. Then I found out that he had been working on a project. A project called Operation Peacekeeper." 

"What was it?" 

Vaughn shrugged. "I don't know. I never did find anything out about the operation. It's like everything about it has been erased, but I did find out that my dad was one of the leaders of the operation. He was tortured to death in Russia by an undercover agent sent to destroy any and every agent associated with this operation." 

"Do you know who the agent was?" 

"No," Vaughn replied dismally. "I couldn't find any names either." 

Sydney felt her heart tighten. "Vaughn, I am so sorry." 

"Don't worry, Syd, it's not your fault. I'm just telling you this because I want you to know that I know how it feels to lose a parent under these kinds of circumstances. I want you to know that I will always be here for you, whether it be night or day, rain or shine…always. You have my number." 

She smiled. "I know," she said quietly, pulling him into an embrace. "I know." 

The sound of Vaughn's beeper interrupted their intimacy. He silently cursed the little contraption and grabbed it from his waist. 

"It's Devlin," he said, giving Sydney a regretful smile. Devlin was the director of the CIA. 

Sydney shook her head. "It's okay. Go ahead, I'm sure it's important." 

"I'll see you later," he said, beginning to turn away. 

She pulled him back and cupped his cheek with her hand. "Thank you, Vaughn." 

"For what?" 

"For everything." 

He smiled back at her and simply nodded. He started to walk away, but turned around again. "Sydney?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Talk to your dad. He deserves to be heard out." 

She paused. "I'll think about it." 

After Vaughn left, Sydney went on her own way as well. She was about halfway home when she felt somebody grab her arm and pull her into an alleyway. She whipped around to face the perpetrator. 

"Dad!" she exclaimed, breathing hard. 

"Sydney, I--" 

"What the _hell_ are you doing?" 

"Sydney, listen to me…" 

She urgently shook her head. "No! No, I don't want to talk to you." 

"Sydney, I know you're upset with me, but…" 

"_Upset_ with you? You think I'm _upset_ with you? I'm not upset with you, Dad, I'm furious with you! You've been lying to me for 15 years! You knew Mom was alive for _15_ _years_! How could you?" 

"Sydney, please let me explain…" 

"I had the right to know my own mother was alive, Dad!" 

"Sydney, will you please shut your mouth for one minute and listen to me!" Jack snapped. 

Sydney widened her eyes, shocked, but remained silent. Jack sighed. 

"Sydney, you weren't supposed to find out. I was trying to protect you." 

Sydney opened her mouth to say something, but Jack held up his hand. 

"Sydney, just listened," he insisted. She complied. "I knew that if I told you your mother was alive, you would go off looking for her. It's the kind of person you are. I was afraid that something would happen to you. Your mother worked for the KGB, Sydney. She was an enemy of the United States. She married me while undercover for the KGB, and when we had you…Sydney, you are the most important person in the world to me. I love you with all my heart and soul. I know I never tell you that, but it's the truth. I was afraid that the KGB would capture you if you went on some sort of crusade to find your mother. I was…I was afraid of losing my daughter." 

Sydney stared at her father. Never in her life had he shared a speech like this with her. She had only heard him tell her he loved her twice in her life, and in those instances, he had been completely nonchalant. However, this time…she knew he was sincere. 

"Dad, I…I don't know what to say." 

"You don't have to say a word, Sydney. I'm sorry for everything." 

She sniffled. "Dad, I know this probably isn't the best thing to talk about right now, but I have to know. Did the CIA find out who killed Mom?" 

Jack tensed. "No, Sydney, they didn't." 

"Are you sure? Because--" 

"I'm sure, Sydney." 

She bit her lip and nodded. "I love you, Dad," she whispered. 

He gave her a small smile and pulled her to him. "I love you, too, dear." 

She wiped the tears from her eyes and looked at her watch. She pulled away from her father. "I'm sorry, Dad, but I have to go. I have to meet Francie and Will in 20 minutes." 

"I understand. You go be with your friends." 

She smiled. "I'll talk to you tomorrow." She turned and walked out of the alley. He watched as she disappeared around the corner and frowned. He'd felt guilty plenty of times in his life, but not quite like this. Ever since his first reconciliation with his daughter, he had wondered…what had been his biggest regret? He knew now. For he was the one who had held the gun that spilled the blood of Irina Derevko. That was his biggest regret. 


End file.
